I was everything you could call a broken girl. No, broken wasn't the word. I still had my spirit; I had just learned the hard way to keep my mouth closed. I never thought life would get any better than being a toy to my stepmother and sisters' boyfriends. They were my monsters in the night. They brought so much pain and suffering, but I still tried to see the light. The light that I hoped would take me away from this nightmare.
The splash of water hitting my face instantly woke me. My step family glared down at me. May and Sarah giggled behind their cupped hands as stepmother peered down at me. Her eyes twitched, and I knew I was in for something.
"You were supposed to be up early today, remember?" She spoke with a deadly calm. I flinched. Crap, I couldn't believe I forgot that! But she couldn't blame me; her boyfriend had gotten the best of me last night. I shivered just remembering.
My muscles ached but there was nothing to do about it, this was my life. Cleaning the whole apartment from top to bottom after a nasty party was exhausting, especially having to avoid a certain person who was intent on groping me when his girlfriend's eyes were turned. It was always like this...a game. A nightmare, where I was always the unwilling mouse and eventually I got sick of fighting back, I had enough of the torturous pain and rapes that haunted me nightly. I learned to stay silent and unseen. But that particular night, luck wasn't on my side.
I had just cleared away the dishes and tidied up the living for tomorrow, when a pair of rough hands circled around me. Startled I struggled, twisting and turning, trying my best to get away. I looked towards the stairs but knew everyone would be out dead from the amount of alcohol they drunk. The cold metal sliding down my back froze me. It slid and teased down my back, before trailing back up and circling my neck, adding pressure here and there but never cutting.
"Just listen to what I tell you and you'll be okay." The person whispered in my ear. I nodded as the knife slowly cut its way through my clothes. My eyes shut on their own accord, as my heart leaped into my throat and tears built in my eyes. This had happened so many times before, yet my tears and fear never failed to appear.
"Shhh, shhh now. There's no need to cry. Just do as I tell you." He rubbed circles softly in my back with the knife trying to comfort me but only worsened the matter.
"Lay down for me, girl, and spread those tempting legs." We were in the kitchen and the only things around were the table, counter and floor. I chose the floor since there was no way I would allow this to happen on our dinner table, even if I didn't really like my step family. I wouldn't disrespect them like that.
"Mmmm... Your mother was right, ripe for the picking." He muttered rubbing himself though his pants. What did he mean? Did stepmother set me up again? "That's right sweetheart. Your mother knows all about this. In fact, she pushed me down here and told me to have a good time! Can you believe it?!" he gloated, laughing before turning serious.
"You have too much clothing on for we are about to do, sweetheart." Taking his knife, a large hunting one, he cut though all restraints of clothing, before shedding his clothes.
He was middle age, around his late sixties, with a beer gut. His hair was making the season's change between the black and white. Winkles shadowed the corners of his eyes, and his eyes stared at me in interest and pure, unadulterated lust.
Gripping my hair in a death grip, he crashed his lips against mine, pulling back from me when I pushed against his chest.
"Let's begin the real fun."
I looked stepmother in the eyes, something I never do, to see amusement shining through her eyes. That told me everything, every rape, every bruise; every.. Everything was because of her hatred for me
Flipping the cover off me, I strolled right past her and her idiots, dressed and left, never giving them the satisfaction of seeing me in pain or the limp I had as I walked or even moved, period.
I needed a breath of fresh air from these people and their fucked up lives.
"Move, brat!" A portly woman yelled.
"Who, me?" I asked.
"No, him" She pointed at a tall man a couple feet from us. "Yes! You!"
The lady's face became a dark shade of red as she marched away.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She heard me, though, and answered with "Sorry my ass!"
Great. I escaped one hell hole just to fall into another. I was at a grand opening. I remembered my nosy neighbor, Rose, told me about. She knew what I was going through, though. She was threatened that if she said anything, people would find her dead, but Rose still did her all to help me.
A huge building, almost a skyscraper touching the wondering sky, was a gift from some rich motherfucker who wanted to give back, and so built a homeless shelter - well, more like hotel - just for them. It was amazing; the beauty of it touched my heart. Tears rushed to my eyes as I watched the many families explore their new home.
I was so excited I had gotten to witness it.
Well, that was until my stepmother appeared with my things: My zebra suitcase, pillows, cover, and other stuff at the opening.
"What are you doing?" I yelled. She just threw my things to me without answering. I spotted my underwear hanging out and quickly pulled them into my pocket, wincing as sharp pain that stuck me. Once I was sure they weren't seen anymore, I faced her.
"I brought your shit to you! As of today you," she pointed at me, "don't live with me ANYMORE!" She smirked.
"WHY?" I asked. She may have been a bitch, but the apartment was the only place I called home. Even if it was bad, it was still home.
"I cannot and will not stand for some slut staying at my home." What? I wanted to scream! How could she so boldly lie, when she knew what had been going on when those men left her and came into my room? Not once did she try to help me push them off, but she encouraged them to r-r-rape me! She and my sisters laughed at my torment.
"Slut?!" I screamed. I knew better, but she said I was kicked out, so what was stopping me from telling her ass off? She had taken it too far that time. I'd put up with a lot of her shit since my dad died, and she calls me a slut when she and her whore daughters brought men home every night, just so they can come and rape me! It was only by pure luck that before my dad died, he made sure I was on the pill so I hadn't ended up pregnant yet!
"I have been raped every night of everyday of my life! Forced, by those men you bought home that you claimed loved you! And you have the nerve to call ME a slut?" Something wet rolled down my cheek. I was crying.
I had more to say, but the burning sting on my left cheek stopped me... she had slapped me. Choked sobs escaped my mouth and the inside of my mouth was bleeding.
"How dare you call me a whore! I wasted money and time on you and this is how you repay me? Lies!" She yelled.
"I have done everything you've wished for but in my time of need you abandoned me! In fact, you would gladly give me away if you could to the highest bidder!"
"Here's your stuff... Don't bother returning and getting the rest. It's already in the trash." With that she walked away.
I cried a few minutes when I noticed everyone was staring and whispering. Had they heard what just happened? Ashamed, I grabbed my stuff and ran to the entrance. I hadn't meant for others to hear about my abuse.